Resolutions
by practicing17
Summary: Set after S.3, Ep.10 - Relationships have shifted. How do people move forward?
1. Chapter 1

AN: _The scene where Jasper asked Sara Alice to keep the present a "secret" had been bothering me, and I"m curious about where James and Jasper go from here, so I put this together._

Robert has wasted little time asserting himself after his Coronation. True to his word, he hired Jasper back into The Palace as "The King's Personal Detail." James isn't technically Jasper's boss anymore, and Jasper is making an effort to tread lightly. They don't share direct responsibilities under this new regimen, and while their work certainly overlaps, they've been sharing information on a need to know basis and communicating via the footmen. It has been a long week.

They each have an office on the security corridor, which Jasper has been avoiding on purpose, preferring the privacy of the Control Room behind the wardrobe. Unfortunately, he's out of pens, of all stupid things, but he know that James is in a meeting, so he finds himself sneaking into his own office to get some. He stops short when he sees Sarah-Alice lying on his desk. He has been trying to steer clear of her too. He knows he's hurt a lot of people, and he really doesn't want to add the little girl to that list. He may be a slow learner, but he had been listening to James in the courtyard.

"Hi," she says gloomily, looking at him upside-down

"Hi," Jasper answers her, "What are you doing in here?

"Nothing."

"Are you allowed to be doing nothing in my office?"

"No. I'm not." Sara Alice confesses, "but I wanted to see you."

Jasper has to laugh to himself… _I wanted to see you_ …. He supposes he can't really fault that response. Besides, it's been a lonely few days and he's glad at least someone wants to see him.

"The Princess left. Even after she read her story book."

Jasper sits down in his chair behind the desk.

"She did," he agrees, "but she'll come back."

"You were supposed to make her stay. She can't have happily ever after if she's not even here!"

Jasper takes a deep breath and leans forward. "That's not really how it works," he tells her. "You know she didn't leave because she doesn't care about you…. She just," he pauses, unsure of how to explain this, "she just needed to go and do some things for herself for a little while. Not for you, or me, or the King, or the Queen or Prince Liam, just for Eleanor. She's going to take some time for herself, and then when she comes home, she'll be ready to stay." With him, forever, he hopes.

Sara Alice sits up and swings her pink trainers over the edge of the desk.

"Can we call her?" She wonders. "I think she'd like to talk to us." She gives Jasper a sideways look, "you especially."

Jasper shakes his head. "No, I don't think we can call her." Eleanor has only been gone a few days, and she's going to be pissed if she thinks he's stalking her. And she'll be more pissed if she thinks he's using Sara Alice to do it.

"Daddy said that too." Sara Alice reports, swinging her feet.

She's trying to play him. He knows he shouldn't, but he laughs. "I figured. You," he points a pen at her, "should listen to your Dad." Jasper stands up, scoops her up under her arms, and swings Sara Alice off the desk, depositing her on the floor with a thump.

"He asked me not to play in here." Her round face is confused.

"Yeah," Jasper says. James hasn't said a word to him since the Coronation, Jasper knows that he's endangered their fragile family bubble, and that James is still angry.

"I thought I could just come and visit you sometimes and we wouldn't have to tell him. Like a secret." She's been thinking about this.

Jasper kneels down in front of her, shaking his head. "Listen to me," he says, "This is important. I would love for you to come and visit me, but little girls cannot have secrets with grownups. Not ever."

Sara Alice pulls a face, "We kept the story book for Eleanor a secret."

"That was more of a surprise," Jasper says. "Do you understand the difference."

She thinks for a moment. "A surprise is something that makes people happy when they find out, but a secret might make them sad."

"Right," Jasper nods. "So listen, you can come and visit me whenever your Dad says it's okay, but no secrets. All right?"

They are interrupted by a cough from the doorway.

"Daddy!" Sara Alice chirps, all innocence, like she was absolutely meant to be in Jasper's office.

James rolls his eyes, he's not buying any of it. "Your tea is ready, moppet," he tells her. "Go on up, I'll be there in a minute."

 _Shit!_ Jasper thinks, getting to his feet.

"Bye, Jasper Caterpillar!" Sara Alice skips out, blowing a kiss at him on her way.

"Bye," he answers her, before turning to James. "I'm sorry, I know you don't want me around her." Jasper faces him, arms at his sides, palms facing out. "I told her she needs to check with you…" his voice fades away,.

"I know," James nods, "I heard you." He waves his hand towards the hallway. Jasper wonders how long the other man had been standing out there.

"Oh...well… then…" Jasper shrugs.

The conversation that they need to have is at least a week overdue, and Jasper has no clue how to start it.

"Are you liking the new gig then, " James asks, just as the silence is getting awkward.

Jasper smirks, "Not really."

"Seems a bit inflexible, our new King." This comment earns James a laugh..

"Len was right," Jasper tells him. "He does like his rules."

James raises one eyebrow. "You've talked to the Princess?"

"No." Jasper sighs. "She told me that … before." He looks at his old boss, wondering if _he_ has talked to Eleanor. James is giving nothing away, and Jasper is determined not to ask.

"And Prince Liam?" James asks. This is a safer, work related, question.

"He's not really in a great place… mentally, " Jasper reports. Specifically, Liam has been alternately half drunk and pacing the floors, or in a fitful sleep. The knuckles on his left hand are bruised from where he punched a wall and hit a stud. James does not need all the details.

"And where is he physically?"

Jasper scoffs, "Aren't you tracking his phone? You know where he is physically."

"Officially, Prince Liam refused a protective detail and left the Palace on the morning of the Coronation. Officially, Palace Security has no idea where his Highness might be."

"How about unofficially?"

"Unofficially, I think Prince Liam is crashing at a friend's place in Shoreditch, and he doesn't want his family to know where he is or what he's up to."

Jasper doesn't know when his former boss learned that he actually owns a small, two-bedroom flat in Shoreditch. He purchased it ages ago, when he first got to London. It's an investment, and it's convenient, and he has been subletting it through AirBNB for months. When Liam had decided to disappear before the Coronation, all Jasper could think to do was park him someplace safe, so he'd handed him his keys and instructed him to stay put. Liam was so distracted, he'd actually stared at him and said, "I'm a Prince, I don't carry keys." He'd managed to overcome the challenges of the deadbolt, however, and has spent the past 6 days in Jasper's spare room.

"He's fine. I don't think he's hiding exactly, he just needs some space to think." And drink. And punch things that are not family members.

James pulls out one of the chairs in front of the desk and settles into it. Jasper mirrors him, glad that there isn't a desk in between them.

"Does King Robert know where his brother is?" James asks.

Jasper shakes his head, "I don't think so. He isn't too bothered by it, he hasn't asked me anything."

James frowns. "He hasn't asked me either. Do you think he could be following you?"

"I don't think so," Jasper meets James's eye, "I haven't noticed a physical tail, and the only trace on my phone is yours."

James shrugs, but doesn't bother to deny anything, "You're in love with the Princess, and my daughter is fond of you. It's my job to know where you are."

"That's why I haven't taken it off." That's not the only reason, but Jasper is not a big fan of introspection. He puts his elbows on his knees and sticks his hands in his hair. "You know I wouldn't hurt them on purpose."

"I know that you did hurt them," James shoots back.

Jasper rocks back in his chair, "I did," he says miserably. "I know, I'm sorry… If I could go back again…"

"You can't," James says flatly. "What's done is done."

And now they are back to this. James knows that the right thing to do is offer an olive branch. One of them is a fully functional adult with decades of responsible life experience. The other one of them is a heartsore millennial who was literally raised by wolves. James didn't cause this breach, not really, but he's going to have to be the one to heal it. He blows out a long breath. "I shouldn't have said what I did about your Dad," he says. "I was angry."

Jasper isn't expecting this. "What?" he asks.

"When I said your Dad was a bit of a disappointment. That was a cheap shot. I'm sorry."

Jasper sits up, and scoffs. "You fired me! You said I was a danger to Sara Alice and told me to leave my sidearm on the desk! Do you really think I care about what you call my Dad?"

James meets his eye. "The part about your Dad is the only piece I wouldn't say again." When Jasper has no response, James continues. "This is like policework, we need a cohesive team, everyone working together. I can't have people going off half-cocked at the first provocation. It's dangerous."

"My Dad is dangerous! I'm not letting him get within a thousand miles of here!" Jasper is defensive.

"Yes," James agrees. "He's a problem. But if you had asked me for help, or told me about the problem, we could have solved it. But you didn't…. so now Palace security looks like the Keystone Cops, Prince Liam is camped in your sitting room, the Princess is in the South of France and you… well, you work for King Robert, who can send you to prison for treason whenever the mood suits him. And there's not a damn thing we can do about any of it." As angry as James is, it's still 'we', not 'you'.

Jasper has no answer to this, and James is in no mood to fill the silence. Finally Jasper says, "I'm not really good at asking for help."

"No shit you're not!"

James knows a fair bit about Jasper's family and upbringing. He knows that Jasper has had to fend for himself since he was small, and that he grew up without any kind of safety net. Jasper is looking at him, blinking quickly. It is the same look that Sara Alice gave him when she left her bike out in the street and the rubbish truck ran over it. Natural consequences. No one likes them, but they are good learning tools. James is doing his best to parent a seven year old, which frankly, was enough of a surprise. Now he finds himself parenting everyone in the building under 30, and it's exhausting.

"I'm not," Jasper repeats glumly. He sits up and shakes his head, and sighs. "Robert's not going to send me to prison. Not right now anyway. He isn't really done with Liam I don't think, he's just biding his time…"

"And his sister…?"

"I don't know yet."

This has been bothering James. "How far would she go, do you think, to keep you out of jail?"

This gets a thin smile out of Jasper. "Depends on how mad she is. She's sent me to jail before."

James rolls his eyes. These kids are idiots, all of them. "That was before," he says. "How about now?"

"I don't know… Maybe pretty far."

"You will keep me in the loop, yes? If the King starts making noise in that direction?"

"Yes," Jasper promises.

"And if Prince Liam starts getting any sudden insights?" James had debriefed Liam after his limo ride with Ted Pryce, and James didn't place much trust in the Prince's impulse control.

"I will keep you posted. And… you're tracing us."

"Because that is actually my job."

"Right," Jasper can't surpress his grin. Someone has his back…. He might not be thrilled about it, but James is still watching out for him. They are not exactly back to where they started, but this is an improvement.

"Okay," James stands up, this is as far as they are going to get today. "If I don't make sure my daughter actually eats her tea she's going to binge on crisps and strawberry licorice."

Jasper stands up too. "That's gross."

"It is." James walks to the door and then stops. "What made you tell Sara Alice all that, before, about surprises and not secrets?"

"Oh!" Jasper is caught off balance. "She helped me make a present for Eleanor… it was a bit stupid… but anyway, when everything blew up…" Jasper waves his hands around, "I didn't want to give it to her, so Sara Alice and I agreed to keep it a secret. But then I got to thinking about how messed up this place is, and I thought, she probably doesn't need to be part of any secrets around here… I don't know… It just seemed like I shouldn't set her up to think secrets are a good thing…." He trails off, feeling like he's not doing a good job of explaining this.

James nods. There might be hope for his former subordinate yet. "Good idea," he says. He turns to go, and Jasper goes back behind his desk, wanting to look like he has actual work to do.

James stops at the doorway. "Kid," he calls. Jasper looks up. "You are not your Father. Now that you know better, you'll do better."

Jasper's eyes widen. This is what he has needed to hear. He meets James's gaze and squares his shoulders. "Thanks," he says.

They are not going to hug it out, and Jasper is not completely forgiven, but all he needs is another chance. Jasper Frost 2.0.5.


	2. Chapter 2

The flight from London to Nice lasted just under two hours. Eleanor cried for nearly all of it. Sebastian sat across the aisle from her, asking no questions, but silently making her another vodka tonic when she finished the first one.

It took almost no time for them to clear French customs. The Idrisi hotel on the coast was beautiful. The décor, as Sebastian had said, was outdated, but the views were spectacular and the public spaces had potential. Looking around, Eleanor was able to put a bit of her family drama aside and feel small glimmers of excitement. She could make a big impact here.

"Let's get a bite to eat," Sebastian says, leading her into the dining room. "Give the staff time to put some of your things away." Her vast amount of luggage had come in a separate car.

She agrees, quietly, and lets him guide her thru the bar to a table near the windows. The television over the bar is showing pictures of the Coronation. Her French isn't fantastic, but she can tell that the announcer is noting that while she and her mother both look radiant, her brother Liam is conspicuously absent. Sebastian's French is excellent, and he puts his hand in the small of her back and moves her out of the room before she can hear the rest of the commentary.

Eleanor settles into her seat, and fusses with her napkin. "I need to call the Palace," she says.

"Okay," Sebastian isn't going to argue with her. "Try them after dinner." He smiles at her, "I'm starving!"

She smiles wanly at the waiter, and lets Sebastian pick a handful of things off the menu, food he knows she likes and a bottle of wine for them to share. She's tired and broody, and vaguely irritated that Sebastian is not letting her pick a fight.

After Sebastian has tasted and approved the wine and glasses are poured, she starts up again. "I need to speak to Liam."

Sebastian nods his head. "You should call him."

"And Mum… it's weird that Robert let her Lord Chamberlain go and didn't say anything."

He smiles, still nodding. "I'm sure he had his reasons." The waiter arrives with a platter of appetizers and canapes, and Sebastian busies himself dividing plates. "Try these," he says, indicating to a fig with some kind of cheese, and bacon wrapped around it. "It's a bit retro, but it's yummy. Do your revamping talents extend to menus? There's probably some work to be done on that end around here too."

She stabs a fig with her fork. He's right, it is good. "I've never tried menus, but sure, probably. You might end up with something very bacon themed."

"I'll risk it." He talks about the features of the hotel – the pool, the spa he'd like to add, the number of suites, and the three villas on the property that could all do with significant renovation. "You'll have a blank slate," he tells her. She knows he's deliberately trying to distract her, and she lets him, and then feels guilty.

After dinner he walks her upstairs to a suite on the top floor. The sun is low on the horizon, and she can hear crashing waves through the open windows. It's much warmer here than it was in London. Sebastian points out a few features, makes sure she can work the latch on the balcony door and shows her where her things have been put away in the wardrobe. "You've had a big day," he observes, walking to the door. "Get some rest, and we can get started in the morning." She follows him to the doorway, and lets him squeeze her hand and kiss her cheek goodnight. He points to a door a few feet down the hall on the opposite side. "I'll be just down there if you need anything."

She smiles at him. She'd been as straightforward with Sebastian has she knows how to be – she wasn't looking for a relationship, she didn't want any flirting, but she had been a bit worried about how things would be once they left London. She was wary of awkwardness around adjoining suites or shared private elevators. She is grateful that he seems to have received the message.

She closes the door behind him, and reaches for her phone. Her only incoming text is one from Robert from much earlier in the day. "Bon Voyage!" She's tempted to call her Mother. They've gotten closer lately, and Eleanor knew that she was upset about Spencer's dismissal. Eleanor wants to shrug it off as a misunderstanding between her Mother and her brother. She's been gone for almost half a day at this point, for all she knows, they've resolved it by now and the Lord Chamberlain is right this minute arranging the Queen's schedule for tomorrow. Robert's first full day as King, it will be a busy day.

She heads for the bar set up in her small sitting room and pours a generous serving of Grey Goose into a tumbler. She looks at it ruefully. Jasper prefers cognac or whiskey to vodka, so those had become her chosen after dinner libations. Truth be told, she likes the vodka better, and wonders why she'd switched. She's not used to changing her preferences on behalf of other people. She's been reviewing her last conversation with Jasper in her head… ' _you're my girl, Princess… … I never got that letter… walk away from here, but don't walk away from us'…_ It's too much for her to process tonight, but she's grateful that a well-stocked bar will be available when she does decide to deal with it.

She changes her clothes for bed and washes the make-up off her face. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but it is a testament to the mascara she'd put her warrant on that she doesn't look like a racoon. She should send the manufacturers a note. She remembers Jasper's whisper, "I like the eyes," and pushes the thought away.

She dials Liam's cell phone, and when he doesn't pick up, she fires off a text: _Where R U?_

He doesn't answer.

For the next week, Eleanor throws herself wholeheartedly into her work. She looks over architectural plans, paint chips, cloth swatches, and furniture catalogs. Sebastian has given her an enormous budget to work with, so she's thinking about resurfacing the pools and changing the landscaping too. They've settled into a routine. They get together for coffee in the late morning, then she works until dinner time. They've tried a few local restaurants, but as she's in France without official security, it's easier to stay on the property. She's deliberately not invited Sebastian to dine up in her room, and so far, he's taken the hint and been friendly and fun, but not tried to take things any further. Eleanor is a little concerned about how long he'll be willing to keep that up, and a little more concerned about whether or not she wants him to. For now, it's good.

Robert has texted twice. He's happy, things are great, maybe they can talk at the weekend. She's been watching the news, he looks good in the footage. She laughed out loud when D-throned devoted a full 4 columns to a work dinner Robert shared with Willow at some trendy restaurant in Hackney. As if!

After 6 days of silence from Liam, she's had it. For about two minutes, she considers texting Jasper, before deciding that it's unfair. She had pretty much demanded space, and he's given it to her. She needs to know what's happening with her twin, but she's going to have to get there on her own. Liam is totally uncommunicative, so she's outsourcing. She texts James: _Where is everyone? What is going on?_

It's late in England, after 10… it takes a few minutes for James to reply. _In Shorteditch. They are fine._

Shoreditch?! Why the hell would they be in Shoreditch? Eleanor takes a deep breath and replies: _No 1 is f*ing fine in Shoreditch._ Out of deference to James, she does not add _WTF?_... but she hopes that it's implied, because seriously?

James replies with a series of fruits and vegetables that are meaningless. There is a bento box, and a chocolate bar, and a pair of skis and a bath tub…. All of it makes no sense to Eleanor, but she doesn't want to be unkind. She waits exactly 360 seconds for a clarification and then calls – she is working on patience, but this is ridiculous.

"This is Hill," James answers, which is bullshit, because he can see who is calling, and honestly, who calls for work at this hour.

"Foxy," she starts…. "it's me."

And now it's decision time for James. He has a role to play, Head of Security…. What do you need?...how can I help you? Or he can step up. Because like it or not, even though the ground has shifted, and this is not, exactly, the job he signed on for, the Princess is on the phone, and she has some questions.

"Princess," he starts, "how are you?" He doesn't have to say where are you, because he knows precisely where she is. He put a trace on her phone ages ago, and short of a court order, he is not about to take it off.

"I'm good," she says, "I'm fine." She's is quiet for a bit and then before James can fill the silence she says," I can't get ahold of Liam."

And here is where James has a decision to make…. If he puts her off, he can buy a day, maybe two, before Prince Liam resurfaces somewhere, likely doing something stupid. Or he can tell her the truth…. Her brother is hiding in her boyfriend"s – ex-boyfriend"s? -flat in East London, … and he's plotting, or stewing, or whatever. Maybe he's fine, or maybe he's not…. He might be in cahoots with King Cyrus (ex_King Cyrus… the king who was Cyrus… Even James doesn't know, and honestly if he can't keep it straight, who can?) Liam is physically safe – or at least as safe as Jasper can make him – and mentally he is, in short, a hot mess. James is torn between wanting to let Eleanor help and wanting to keep her as far away as physically possible. Cannes might be too close, if it were up to James, he would pick South Africa.

Eleanor has a better handle on this particular piece of her life than James thinks. She surprises him with her next question. "Have you talked to the Queen?"

The Queen has been surprisingly quiet. The French TV channels have been showing stock footage, but there has been nothing recent. Eleanor's calls home have gone unanswered, which wouldn't normally be unusual, except the Queen has also not been seen on the morning talk shows or the afternoon charity rounds, which sets all of Eleanor's senses on high alert.

"She's been keeping to her rooms," James says.

"Have you seen her since the Coronation, " Eleanor asks.

"No, Your Highness." That's James's answer…. And that is when Eleanor knows. She needs to come home.

Now.

James doesn't use her official title… not ever. He calls her Princess, or Len… or some other diminutive that she can't register when she is upset, but Your Highness is official. It's cold, and legal, and emphatically not James. It's the title used in telegrams, and Home Office cables, and other minutia she doesn't usually care about, except that now, she does.

Eleanor's voice is crisp. She could be on a recorded line… maybe she is. "Thank you Mr. Hill," she says, "We will be in touch." Eleanor HATES the "royal we"…. She almost never uses it.

Hundreds of miles away, James Hill's shoulder's relax. He blows out the first true exhale he's had in a week and answers, on cue, "We are at your service, Your Highness."

Eleanor gets to work. She tosses what she thinks is a week's worth of clothes into a suitcase she thinks might be carry-on size. Her guess is orders of magnitude off, but because she's Eleanor, she'll get away with it. She picks up her bag and walks down the hall to Sebastian's suite. She knocks on the door with authority.

To his credit, Sebastian doesn't make her knock twice. He opens the door, wearing track suit bottoms and a t-shirt that might be inside out. He takes in Eleanor's appearance, and the suitcase, and doesn't hedge for a second.

"You are going home," He says. It's not a question.

"Liam," she says, "and my Mum…. I need to go home." She's not asking for help, she's just explaining why she's leaving in the middle of the night. "If I catch the first flight, I'll be home by 11 tomorrow," she says.

He meets her eyes, " Don't be stupid." He turns, holding the door open. "Given me ten minutes. You can be wheels up in 45 minutes, home by 8."

Eleanor follows him into his suite. It's identical to hers, without the view. "I'm sorry to leave you… I can still help with this, " she waves her hands around. "From London, I mean, now that I know what it all looks like."

"Maybe, " he says. He looks at her dead on. "Take care of what you need to take care of, we can talk in a few days." He leaves her standing in the suite entryway and makes a phone call. He issues a few short instructions in French and then takes her elbow, leading her back to the hallway.

"You are all set." He tells her. "A car will take you to the airport. The plane is ready to go."

Sebastian walks her to the hotel entrance. He opens the door to the waiting car and kisses her cheek. "Have a safe trip," he says.

"I…" she starts.

"Don't," Sebastian tells her. "They need you at home." He kisses her cheek and guides her into the car, reaching across her for the belt. "We can talk in a few days."

Sebastian closes the door with a decisive click, and she is off, headed to the airport. Eleanor digs her phone out of her pocket. For a minute she stares at it, and then she makes a decision. She keys Jasper's number into the messenger app and types: _Arrive Heathrow at 8. Can U meet me?_

Almost immediately, she has an answer. _Heathrow 8. C U then_


	3. Chapter 3

Jasper has never had a proper roommate. As an only child, he'd never shared a bedroom. There have been girlfriends – Samantha obviously – and one or two others. Samantha had had an apartment on an upper floor of her father's hotel. It was huge, enormous plate windows, a view that stretched out over the strip, on clear mornings he could see for miles. He hadn't lived there, exactly, but he'd kept toiletries in the bathroom and some work clothes and workout things in a spare closet. He'd kept his small apartment off The Strip, so he could have his own space, and a bit of privacy.

Securing his flat in London was the first thing he'd done when he'd arrived. It was nothing like the modern, contemporary Vegas space. This flat had the big windows, but they were divided with panes. It was vaguely open concept, but had quirky corners and niches built into it. The agent told him it was a converted accountancy office. What sold Jasper on the space was the little roof top garden, this was before he'd lived in England long enough to realize just how frequently in rained, and the fact that there was a Ladbrokes on the bottom floor. He thought that the proximity to off-track betting was a good omen. Plus, the place closed at 10pm, so it would be quiet by the time he got home at night.

Of course, as things worked out, Jasper spent most of his nights at the Palace, so the apartment got very little use. Just now, though, he's grateful to have held onto it, because since the Coronation of King Robert Henstridge, Prince Liam has been staying here.

As flat mates go, Liam is not terrible. He has made a real effort to be tidy – towels picked up in the bathroom, empty drink bottles rinsed out and placed neatly in the Council provided recycling bin. He has, once or twice, actually emptied the rubbish bins, and made a few trips to the nearby Waitrose for groceries, but that's tricky, since he doesn't want to be recognized. He has learned how to operate the clothes washer in the kitchen and he found the broom in the hall closet. His mood has been alternating between broody and cold fury, and he's been doing a lot of self-medicating with beer and whiskey.

Since the Coronation, Jasper and Liam have done a good bit of drinking, and not very much talking. For the time being, there just isn't that much to say. Jasper's evenings are largely free because Robert prefers to keep him on a 9-5 schedule and rely on Rosie or another member of Palace security for any evening engagements. Jasper has accompanied him to Parliament and some official daytime obligations, but doesn't have much insight into how the new King is spending his "off" hours. Kathryn's name has not been mentioned by either Prince, and Jasper isn't about to bring her up.

They are two drinks into a new bottle of scotch when Len's message hits Jasper's phone. Liam recognizes the tone, smirks, and looks at Jasper expectantly. His friend has a mildly surprised look on his face. "How is my sister?" He asks.

Jasper types a response and looks up from his phone. "She's coming back. In the morning." He pours himself another drink, and tops off Liam's glass. "I'll get her from Heathrow at 8."

Liam raises one eyebrow. "And where will you tell my brother you are at 8 am? I suppose that meeting her off the plane falls well outside your extracurricular guidelines. "

"Rosie will cover for me." Jasper sounds confident.

"Does Robert know she's coming home?"

Jasper frowns, "I don't know. She didn't say." He contemplates his drink for a minute, and then shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. If he did, he'd just send a Palace car to the airport…."

"And make sure you're not the one driving it."

Jasper scoffs, "Yeah."

"Does she know I'm here?"

"Not unless you talked to her."

Jasper knows full well that Liam hasn't talked to her. James isn't the only one who can clone a cell phone, but there's no point in dwelling on it.

"Does she even know that you own an apartment?" Liam hadn't known, and had been surprised to hear about it, and then realized that as close as they have become, there is still a massive amount of detail he doesn't know about Jasper. Liam doesn't care. He knows it's probably ridiculously naïve, but Jasper has earned his trust. He avenged King Simon's murder and he pulled out all the stops to protect Eleanor. Just this week, Liam knows, Jasper has committed some kind of treason, apparently in a continued misguided attempt to keep protecting Eleanor. Liam doesn't know what that's all about – yet – but he knows that Jasper has his back, and he's grateful. And he'll return the favor if he can.

Jasper exhales, "No… no she doesn't."

Liam rolls his eyes, "You didn't think that was worth mentioning? She's going to be livid."

"Yeah, well, she's usually mad about something."

"She has trust issues." Liam knows that this isn't news to Jasper, but feels like it bears repeating.

Jasper shoots Liam a sideways look, "That's really helpful, thank you!"

Liam smirks at his friend, and decides to let the trust issues drop. "She didn't hold out as long as I thought she would."

Jasper rolls his eyes and sighs into his whiskey glass. "She just needs a ride, and well, you can't drive."

Liam tosses a couch pillow, which Jasper easily dodges. "I can drive," he declares.

"No. You can start the ignition, that's not driving."

Liam pulls the whiskey bottle towards himself, refills his drink, and props his feet up on Jasper's coffee table. "Lenny could have asked Rosie to meet her at the airport."

"Or James," Jasper says.

"You know Lenny." Liam says, "she does what she wants."

Eleanor can see Jasper leaning against a car as the plane taxis to a stop. She's relieved, she was worried that he might not show. Jasper has decided that this is not an official assignment – the car has no flags or other Palace markings on it, and he's wearing jeans and a t-shirt rather than his regulation black suit.

She thanks the flight crew in French. She is friendly and co-operative with the surprised customs agents who board the plane expecting to be berated, and she is down the stairs before anyone even has time to get her bags from the hold. Jasper isn't walking towards her, he hasn't forgotten all protocol apparently, but he's standing next to the opened passenger side door, with a confident look on his face. She rolls her eyes at him. Eleanor is sure she could wipe that look right off, but he has played by the rules since she's been gone – no late-night calls or provocative texts, he's been looking after Liam, and he's here because she asked, even though it's stupid early – so she will be nice. He grins at her, he knows she's making a concession. She feels her pulse quicken and can hear the rapid click of her heels on the tarmac. She makes a conscious effort to walk slower, but can't help grinning back.

He settles her into the front seat, where she wouldn't typically sit, and helps arrange her luggage into the boot.

"Thanks for coming to get me, " she says as he pulls the car out onto the access road.

He meets her eye and shifts into a higher gear. "I will always come to get you."

She takes a deep breath. "Does anyone know I'm home?" She feels a little bit like she's sneaking into her own country. She's got a nagging feeling that her big brother isn't going to be entirely happy to see her.

"James can track your phone." Jasper sees her frown out of the corner of his eye, and decides not to share that he could track her phone too, if he wanted to. Recognizing that that's the kind of thing a crazy ex would do, he's resisted the temptation, for now, but he's going to keep his options open. "Liam heard your text come in last night," he tells her instead.

She smirks, "And he let you borrow his car."

They are on open road now, the commuter traffic is heading in the other direction. Jasper accelerates and neatly works through the gears. "This car is wasted on Liam," He tells her, and she laughs.

"What did Robert say…."

"Look, your brother made me…" They are talking over each other, and Eleanor is slightly gratified to realize that she is making him nervous. His hands are on the wheel at 10 and 2, and his shoulders are tense.

She waves her hand at him, letting him go first. He decides to change tack, "Are you hungry?"

"Starving, actually," she nods. She looks out the window, they are in some suburb near the airport. "Can we stop somewhere? Like a tea shop or something?"

"Yeah," Jasper agrees. He takes his phone out of the console, unlocks it, and pulls up a food app. "Find something," he hands it to her.

She settles back in her seat and begins looking for breakfast. She's surprised that he just handed his phone over – months ago, she'd have gone to great lengths to snoop through it, but new/self-contained Eleanor is not into playing games, and if Jasper isn't her boyfriend, then it's none of her business who he's been texting. She picks a café on a side street in a suburb she doesn't know well, more for proximity than for any other reason. She turns the volume up on the phone so Jasper can hear the directions and makes a big show of plugging it back in and putting it down. She's not spying on him, even if she wants to. Jasper smiles, recognizing that this is the second concession she's made in twenty minutes. 2 points Bodyguard.

He locates the café, and then ignoring the disembodied phone voice that is assuring him that "you have reached your destination", drives around the block three times, scoping things out. He finally parks on the street, 3 doors down, and stops the car.

"We can count the people who know you're in the UK on one hand, it should be fine," Jasper says unnecessarily.

"I'll keep my sunglasses on."

"We probably shouldn't stay to eat." Jasper wants to at least put this out there.

"It will be fine." This is a level of independence she doesn't normally get, she's not going to waste it, "No one knows I'm here, most people are already gone to work. We will sit in the back, totally incognito. Liam has done stuff like this loads of times." She's excited to try this.

She's right. Liam has gone out on his own. He's done it more than Jasper would have liked, and much more than James would have liked. On balance, breakfast in a neighborhood shop is far preferable to rounds in the ring of a subterranean fight club. Plus, he's not going to be the one to kill an idea that she's clearly thrilled by.

"Okay! Let's do this!" He steps out onto the sidewalk, and laughs when he turns and sees that Eleanor is still sitting in her seat. He walks around the car and opens her door. He leans in, grinning. "Here's a tip: If you don't want anyone to know that you're a Princess, then you're going to have to stop acting like one…Princess."

She huffs, and but she's smiling when she climbs out of the car. "Do they have any manners in America?"

"They have a few," Jasper answers. He puts his hand in the small of her back, and guides her to the café door. She rolls her eyes when he smirks at her and then reaches around to open it.

There is a group of older women with tea cups, sitting around a large table. They look like a book club or a some kind of church league. They don't look up when the bells on the door ring.

A harassed looking woman carrying a tray full of dirty dishes glances in their direction and calls, "Have a seat anywhere lambs, I'll be right with you." Jasper scans the room and settles on a table in the corner where he can see the door and out the front window. He's rewarded with another smiling eyeroll when he pulls Eleanor's chair out for her. "Lambs," she mouths at him.

"She doesn't know you," he answers.

Eleanor sticks out her tongue, and pulls menus out from behind a napkin holder. She hands one to Jasper. "Nor you."

They each look over their menus. The same woman who greeted them comes over and puts a pot of tea and two mugs in front of them.

"What can I get you?" She asks, eyeing Eleanor over her note pad. She's not really paying them any mind.

"A bacon sandwich, and a cup of fruit please." Eleanor can't really hide her public-school accent, and Jasper is sure she's going to be recognized as soon as she opens her mouth.

If the waitress does recognize her, she's gives no sign of it. "How about you," she asks Jasper.

"The same please."

"Of course." She nods at them both and walks back towards the kitchen.

Eleanor is pleased with herself. She shoots Jasper a self-satisfied look and begins pouring tea. She fills the mug closest to her first, adds milk and two packets of sugar, and passes it across the table. Jasper takes it silently. They've come a long way since the first time she made him a cup of tea. He has a lot of questions for her, but he's waited her out this long, so he doesn't break the quiet.

Eleanor has always been less patient. She takes a sip from her own mug of tea and asks, "How are my brothers?"

"They're okay." He tells her about Robert's new reliance on Willow. She's setting his daily schedule now, and has walk-in access to Robert's private office. Eleanor raises one eyebrow, thinking back to the D-throned article. Walk-in access is reserved for only a handful of people – she's not sure that Robert would give it to her, he's such a stickler for protocol.

"How does Kathryn feel about that?" She asks.

"No idea," he answers. "I don't think he's talked to her since the Coronation."

She frowns. "So that's where Liam has been this whole time."

"No," Jasper sets his tea mug down. "Liam hasn't seen her either."

"He ignored my texts. James told me he was in Shoreditch…. Isn't that where she lives?"

Jasper shakes his head, "She's more Bethnal Green…. But anyway, no, Liam hasn't been over there. I have a flat in Shoreditch, he's been staying there."

"Since when," Eleanor hisses, "have you had a flat in Shoreditch?"

"Since I moved to London a year ago." He fills her in on when he bought it, and how Liam ended up staying there.

Eleanor begins fussing with the tea pot. "You never told me you had a flat somewhere," she says softly. It's not quite an accusation, but she's hurt. It's just one more thing about his life that he didn't tell her about.

"No, I didn't…" He's saved from going further by the arrival of their breakfast and a second pot of tea.

"Here you go…." Their waitress deposits two plates on the table, "Your Highness," she adds in a whisper. "They will be done with their book club in a few minutes, and then you'll have the place to yourselves." She promises, gesturing to the ladies group behind her with a conspiratorial smile. "I don't suppose you get much time on your own."

"Thank you!" Eleanor says softly. "And this looks delicious!"

"It's a treat to see you eating a proper breakfast instead of wasting away." She says, with a cross look at Jasper, as though he's the one keeping her from food.

"My mother would strongly disagree," Eleanor replies as their new friend smiles again and walks away.

Jasper takes a sustaining bite of his sandwich and decides, chewing slowly, that he should come clean, at least on his living arrangements.

"I've never spent much time there. It's not much, really, and I didn't tell you about it because it never really came up – we were always at the Pal… at your place." He corrects himself as the book club members stand up and begin reaching for bags and sweaters.

Eleanor shifts slightly in her seat, turning her back to them and looking more towards the wall. The ladies are discussing weekend plans and someone's new granddaughter, and don't notice Eleanor and Jasper at all. Each one of them says goodbye to their waitress, her name is Anne, as Anne helps them all make their way out the door.

Anne hugs the last straggling book club member and closes the door behind her, and turns the lock with a firm _click,_ flipping the 'Open for Business" sign to closed. "There." She says with authority.

"We're costing you business," Eleanor protests from the corner.

"Don't be silly," Anne tells her. "It's a small neighborhood, no one will be in until lunchtime. I'll just be in the kitchen if you want more tea." She leaves them alone in the dining room.

"We _are_ costing her business," Eleanor says to Jasper. She digs into her sandwich. "That's really good," she declares, still with a bit of food in her mouth. "So, you didn't want to trust me with your safe house, but now Liam is there, and Kathryn isn't banging either one of my brothers."

Jasper winces. "I do trust you…"he starts, and then takes a deep breath. "And I don't have much practice trusting people, so I am not very good at it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the apartment. You can come see it right now if you want."

She blinks in surprise. She'd been expecting him to try to justify why he'd shut her out. "It's okay," she tells him. "You have trust issues, " she says knowingly.

"Yeah, maybe." He ignores the strawberries on his own plate and reaches across to steal one of hers. She swats at his hand, misses, and laughs when he sticks the strawberry in his mouth.

"You're a real piece of work, Jasper. You know that?"

He arches an eyebrow and Eleanor shifts the discussion back to her family. They talk about Liam, and how he seems more angry than sulky. Jasper reports that he's been drinking more than usual, but staying close to the apartment rather than going out. He's grateful that there have been no midnight forays to the fight club, but he won't be surprised if that starts back up. They have a bachelor routine of whiskey and take away curry. Liam has had a few meetings with her Uncle Cyrus during the day while Jasper is fetching and carrying for Robert. They meet at the Goring Hotel, not at the Palace, but Liam hasn't shared any details with Jasper and for now, Jasper isn't asking.

They talk briefly about the Queen – which is a bit stilted – since Eleanor's mother is a topic that they've always avoided, for obvious reasons. Jasper hasn't seen much of her since the Coronation, although he thinks that James might be talking to her some. Rachael has been working with Willow, but Robert has been keeping her at arm's length – _she_ definitely doesn't have walk-in privileges – and Spencer has not been hired back. Eleanor says that she thinks James is concerned, and that he, in his James-like way, had encouraged her to come home.

They've finished eating and Anne brings them a 3rd pot of tea when she takes their plates away. Eleanor brings the conversation back to Robert.

"Robbie doesn't know I'm home, does he?" She asks.

"I didn't tell him," Jasper confirms. "Actually, he made it pretty clear, that if I want to stay in the country, and out of jail, that I'll stay far away from you."

Eleanor snorts, "He's always been protective. He's mostly bark."

Jasper shakes his head, "I don't think so…. there's some pieces you don't know." Eleanor sits silently while Jasper fills her in on what she's missed. She doesn't interrupt as Jasper details the negotiations he'd done with Harper Day and Brandon Boone, the information he stole, and the deal with the Devil he's got going with Robert. It goes against every instinct he has, but he tries hard not to leave anything out. This is his chance at a clean slate, and he's determined to take it.

By the time he's finished, Eleanor is pressing her fingertips into her temples. He half expects her to start screaming, but instead, when she finally starts talking, her voice is deadly calm. "You ended our whole relationship. You said you were suffocating and you left, and then you stole stuff, and almost got James arrested, all because of negative press?"

It sounds incredibly stupid when she says it that way. "She was going to tear you apart, I didn't know what else to do."

"Let her write it, and ignore it…. That's what we _always_ do! There is always going to be some journalist with some shitty angle, we do this all the time!"

It's Jasper's turn to clutch his head. "You don't know my Dad. I'm not going to let him anywhere near you." He had said this to James too, and he means it.

"For fuck's sake Jasper! He's not going to get anywhere near me! Just put him on the goddamn no-fly list!" She's shaking her head, "Why, for the love of God, did you not just _tell me this?"_

"I was trying to protect you!"

"Because you Don't. Trust. Me!"

"That's not it!"

"That _IS_ it!" She's not backing down. She knows she's right, and she knows that Jasper knows it too. He doesn't answer her, because, really what else is there for him to say.

They sit, glaring at each other over the tea things. Finally, Jasper plays the last card he has. "You're my girl, and I love you." He shakes his head, "I will figure out the rest of it."


	4. Chapter 4

Willow likes her new office. It isn't the biggest of the senior staff offices, but it is the nearest to the King's suite, and the windows look out over the Parade Ground. Robert had offered her Rachel's office, but Willow had turned it down. No point in ruffling feathers any more than necessary.

She's deliberately keeping a low profile. She's had a couple of days to get used to Robert's offer. Willow is careful not to think about it as a proposal – it's not. Robert barely knows her. They've had one awkward conversation about Harry Potter characters and one highly scripted dinner out that she'd planned herself to get a read on how the public was going to take to a new woman in their new King's life. Not exactly a first date, it was much more like a job interview – albeit an interview that included foie gras and champagne.

Her work portfolio has grown. She's continuing to manage Robert's social media profile, and she's taken on coordinating his schedule and correspondence too. Since he's been back, he's been in high demand with world leaders and diplomats – between themselves, she and Robert are calling this the "Man who Lived" phenomenon. It's not showing any signs of dying down.

She's into work early. She has a tiny flat in Kensington, and in fair weather she can walk to the Palace in 40 minutes. This morning, for the second day in a row, a Palace sedan has been idling outside her front door on Robert's orders, so her commute has gotten much shorter. Robert has hinted that she should move into a staff apartment in the building, but she's reluctant to give up her own space.

She's just opened up her laptop, when a shadow crosses her doorway. "Good morning," Robert says, leaning against the door frame. He's wearing a suit, he's got meetings this morning, but his tie is undone.

She stands up, "Your Majesty," she bobs her head at him and smiles. It's not quite a bow, but more formal than the grin and wave she'd share with Liam in the same circumstance. Robert likes the formalities.

"Tea?" he asks her.

She grabs a mug off her desk, "Not yet." He ushers her out and walks beside her, rather than in front.

"Do you have dinner plans?" He asks her as they walk into the kitchenette off the hallway where the tea cart is set up.

"No," she laughs. "But you do. They are expecting you at Downing Street at 7."

Robert swears under his breath. "I assume that is on the schedule I haven't looked at?" He takes her mug, fills it for her, and hands it over.

"It is," she answers mildly. "It's been there for days, actually."

"She's going to badger me about the State Dinner with the Americans."

Willow nods. "She is. Odds are, she's going to be pretty relentless about it."

"Okay," Robert turns to look at her, watching her add a lemon wedge to her tea mug. "Not my original plan, but would you please join me this evening at Downing Street to dine with the PM… I can promise you watered down gin, Spanish wine, and dry chicken."

She makes an exaggerated curtsey. "It would be my great pleasure to join you at Downing Street for dry chicken and drier company, Your Highness." Officially, this is an actual work obligation. She can't really say 'no', but she might as well make the best of it. Plus, she has a few thoughts the she might like to share with the Prime Minister.

"Excellent!" He leads her back down the hall, nodding to Rosie, who has taken up the security post outside of his office.

He puts his hand in the small of Willow's back, and leads her into his office, closing the door behind him.

"This…" he says, waving his hand around, "It's a little weird."

She giggles, and nods, "It's a lot weird."

He meets her eyes, "I would like it to be less weird…. Any way we can do that?" He's got his hands in his hair, and looks surprisingly young. For the first time, it occurs to Willow that possibly Robert doesn't know exactly what he's doing.

"Honestly?" She asks, "No. I think it's always going to be weird."

A surprised look crosses his face. People do not say "no" to Robert very often.

"Always?" Robert sits down in the chair behind his desk, and makes a gesture, encouraging her to go on.

Willow realizes that her King doesn't have any other chairs in his office. There is one, behind his desk, obviously intended for him. Anyone else granted an audience is apparently expected to stand on the other side of the desk and present. She shakes her head in annoyance, walks around the end of the desk, shoves aside a stack of paper and sits on the edge, facing him.

"It's just weird." She says emphatically. "You're the King of England. We didn't meet in a bar…. friends didn't set us up…. I worked for your Mother, and it was my job to interview potential wives for you. You put my name on the list. That is not how most people get together."

Robert leans back in his chair, still looking surprised. "No…. I suppose it's not."

"It's fine, I think," she tells him. "We just have to accept that it's going to be weird for a while."

He's continuing to look at her like she's started speaking in tongues. She shakes her head and thinks that some day she will tell a grand-daughter who looks nothing like a Henstridge, that she was once, 'this close' to marrying the King of England. She doesn't voice that thought out loud. Instead she hops off the desk and takes ahold of Robert's tie. Her practiced hands tie it into a Windsor knot without looking at it – a side effect of attendance at a British public school with a uniform that included a tie as part of the dress code. He meets her eye, but doesn't move to stop her. He might be holding his breath.

She doesn't shrink from his gaze. "It's going to be fine," she reiterates. "Just don't start thinking that it's going to be normal." She takes a step back, and nods approvingly at her knot work. "You'll do," she tells him. She reaches behind her back, takes his schedule off the top of the pile of paperwork on the desk, and glances at it. "You are scheduled to Skype with David Beckham, a representative from the National League, and someone from USA Soccer in 10 minutes. They want to schedule US teams to play friendly matches here next summer."

Robert looks gobsmacked, but takes the paper she's holding. His hand brushes hers and she smiles at him. "Be nice," she advises. "Remember that he has small kids, and it's one in the morning in Los Angeles."

Robert shakes his head, like he's trying to clear it. He watches her walk to the door, and then calls out. "David is Holland Park. He's on London time."

Willow stops at the door. "He's not," she calls over her shoulder with no hesitation. "They flew back to California after Christmas. Be nice," she says again, "Friendly games. No fewer than 6. Weekday nights. In July."

Robert is sitting up straight now. He's smiling. "What do you know about football?"

She turns and faces him in the doorway. "Soccer? Not a thing! But I'm a quick study!"

Now he's laughing. "I'll see you for dinner. Business dress, dry chicken."

She beams back, "Drier company. I'm on it!"

She walks back to her office with the view of the Parade Ground. Willow is nobody's fool. She knows that Robert is not in love with her. She knows that he dumped Kathryn awfully fast, and that his relationship with Liam is tricky and complicated. Robert wants revenge, and he's thinking he can use Willow to get it. But that can change, because, really, Willow is a quick study, and Robert doesn't know her at all.


	5. Chapter 5

_I know the wait has been ridiculous! Thank you so much to everyone who has been hanging in there. This chapter is short, but I've got some ideas brewing!_

Sebastian tried, and failed, to go back to sleep after watching the sedan carrying Eleanor drive off. He feels good about his decision to send her on her way, but he knows that the newly anointed King of England isn't going to like it.

His arrangement with Robert had been straight forward. The Idrisi hotel business, which Sebastian had taken over largely because no one else in his family wanted it, needed an influx of cash and style. Robert had plenty of cash on hand and a pretty sister he wanted to keep busy. He'd warned Sebastian that she was flighty and easily bored. The deal was that Sebastian would get her out of London and keep her entertained, and if deadlines started slipping and properties couldn't open, Robert would send more cash to hire "real" stylists to get the job done. As for any "more than business" relationship that Sebastian and Eleanor developed, Robert hadn't been exactly subtle in saying how strongly he'd support it. Sebastian read the papers like everyone else. He knew that Eleanor had been paired with Beck on and off for years. He knew that Robert and the heir to the Beckwith Estate had been school friends, and figured the final breakup had been harder on Eleanor than the D'throned articles suggested. She had a reputation for reacting to disappointment in self-destructive ways. Robert was smart to help her find a distraction, and another suitable relationship, before she did anything stupid. This arrangement was going to be a win/win for everybody. It wasn't until Coronation Day that Sebastian realized that Eleanor hadn't been brought in on the particulars

She had played her role perfectly that morning. Smiling and waving to the crowd below the balcony, Eleanor was the proud and dutiful sister to the King. She was careful, but Sebastian had seen the one glance she'd thrown over her shoulder to the Palace Guard in the black suit behind her. And he'd seen the same guard, hours later, standing in an upper window, watching their car drive towards the airport.

Sebastian had sat with Eleanor on the jet, mixing drinks while she cried into her cocktail napkin. She didn't offer much in the way of explanation, and he didn't ask. It wasn't that he didn't care, it was just that he was pretty sure he already knew.

He enjoys working with Eleanor. She has a great eye for detail and a solid understanding of what kind of customer would come to an Idrisi property and a what kinds of amenities would keep them coming back. Robert had underestimated her, or at least undersold her.

She's interested in the hotel work, and committed to creating a quality project. And she has never, for one second, wavered in her determination to not move her relationship with Sebastian beyond friendly. He had tried – he'd have been a fool not too – and she'd gently rebuffed every single attempt. He should have been irritated, but he wasn't, not after a while. As young royals, Sebastian and Eleanor really did have a lot in common – Robert had been right about that. They each understand the pressures that come from living life under the glare of the public eye. Neither one of them has the luxury of making friends casually. Eleanor, especially, is not about to give up much in the way of personal details, but she does need a friend, and Sebastian is happy to take on the role.

Sebastian sighs in annoyance and gives up trying to sleep. He climbs out of bed, paying little mind to the €500/night view out his window and gets ready for the day. His morning shave is interrupted by a beep from his phone. His pilot, as requested, texting to let him know they've landed in the UK.

 _Who picked her up?_ Sebastian texts back. It is a family joke that Sebastian never wins money at the tables in Morocco because he won't put money down on anything less than a sure bet. He's willing to put quite a bit down that he knows precisely who met Princess Eleanor at Heathrow.

 _Palace security detail. Credentials said Frost._

Sebastian rolls his eyes at his reflection in the mirror.

 _Thx._

He finishes dressing and walks down to the hotel breakfast room. The room looks out over the rocky coast, and there is a table in front of the corner windows set up for him and Eleanor, just as it's been every morning since they arrived. He smiles in thanks to the waiter who arrives with coffee.

"It will just be me this morning, Raul, the Princess has another commitment. She will be away for a few days." Gossip from the staff is inevitable, but the least he can do is try to take some of the drama out of it. Princess Eleanor absolutely did not flee the property in the dead of night. She has some work to take care of and she will be back in due time. Ultimately, it doesn't really matter. The tabloids will make up some drama if Eleanor doesn't create her own for them to report on, but he will try anyway.

He glances at the headlines from the print copy of Le Monde that's been left on the table. Nothing too interesting. His phone says it's mid-morning in London. He wonders if Robert already knows she's home. The coffee is strong, and its bitterness helps clear his head. It's obvious now that Robert isn't so much worried about helping his sister get over her longtime "on again/off again" relationship with Beck. Rather, Robert wants to keep his sister far away from her "maybe not really off at all" relationship with a member of Palace Security.

He finishes his coffee and puts his cup back down on the saucer with a louder bang than is really necessary. He's annoyed with Robert for using him, and exasperated with Eleanor for not seeing things more clearly. She's being naïve, but she's going to need his help if she wants to pull off whatever it is she's hoping to pull off. In her urgency to get back to London, he assumes that Eleanor has done nothing in the way of warning her brother the King that she's coming home. Sebastian hopes that this Palace Guard, whoever he is, knows what he's doing.

He pushes his chair away from the table and grabs his phone and opens up the texting app.

 _Call me when you have a minute. If Robert asks you, we've changed the schedule and are doing the London property early._

He smirks to himself. Eleanor had been so focused on heading out of town, he's not sure she even knows there is a London property in the portfolio. It's not the biggest, and he'd planned on dealing with it much later in the year, but this gives her a good excuse to be in London, and someplace to go – or say she's going – if she needs to get out of the Palace. She is going to need some cover for this impromptu trip home, whether she knows that right now, or not.


	6. Chapter 6

"You're my girl, and I love you." He shakes his head, "I will figure out the rest of it."

Eleanor huffs her bangs out of her face. It's typical, really, that she's managed to fall in love with someone this thick. "No, Dumbdumb, _WE_ will figure out the rest of it! We're going to have to do it together if we're going to do it at all."

Jasper blinks, once, twice, then he folds his hand. She's got him. It's a relief, really. He smiles. "Ok, we will figure it out." He finishes the rest of the tea in his mug. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Seriously? He hasn't thought that far ahead… "Baby," he tells her, "I'm just trying to get past breakfast."

She laughs. "If you're going to make it past tea time, you're going to have to think faster." She's smiling, and her shoulders have relaxed. She kicks his foot under the table. This is what she's been looking for. Together, the pair of them are formidable. They are fucked-up, maybe; dysfunctional and damaged, clearly, but, in the end, _Jaspenor_ is a force that cannot be stopped.

They settle their bill with Anne quickly. Eleanor takes a picture with their new friend on her phone, apologizes again for the lost business, and promises to post the selfie on social media "at an auspicious moment". Anne laughs at her, reiterates that this is a small town, and promises she'll start following the Princess on Twitter. She reminds the Princess to start eating more. Jasper makes a mental note to pay attention to when the picture actually gets posted, because he knows what kind of traffic it's going to pull, and that there is no way this little spot can manage it.

"Ready, Princess?" Jasper asks, pulling the café door open.

"Of course, I am." She beams at him. "Are you?"

He's not. Not by a long shot. The only things standing between Jasper and prison are the whims of Robert Henstridge and the slightly begrudging perjury of Brandon Boone. He's got Harper Day as a reluctant ally, and Prince Liam as a flat mate. But Jasper wants this – this girl, this relationship. He's willing to fight for it.

He grins back, and nods. "Yeah, I'm ready." He puts his hand in the small of her back to guide her through the door, his fingertips playing with the hem of her top. He can smell the shampoo that she uses in her hair. It's some kind of cucumber, mint, something. He doesn't know, but he's seen the damn bottle enough times. Ages ago, back before everything went to hell, he'd added one to his online grocery order in a fit of optimism. It's sitting now, in the shower stall at his apartment, reminding him each morning that he really is a total dumb ass.

There are no paparazzi waiting for them outside the door. It's just a suburban side street, with cars parked at meters. "There's a park, down by the river," Eleanor points towards a green space in front of them. She wraps her arm around his waist, letting him hold her tighter than he, technically, needs to hold her. Jasper is on high alert, but she is still enjoying her morning of freedom. She doesn't want to give it up yet.

They walk down the street towards the Green and Eleanor flops down and stretches out underneath a tree. The effect is more girl ditching A-Level revisions than Royal Heir on tour. They are lucky with the weather. It's dry, and while it's definitely still winter, there is a hint of spring. The breeze is cool, but not cold. Jasper sits down next to her, and she shifts to rest her head on his thigh. "We need a plan." She states.

"A plan would be good."

"What, exactly, did Robert say to you about you and me?"

Jasper tells her again. The King had made his terms crystal clear – the price for staying in the country and in Eleanor's orbit was to stay far, far away from Eleanor herself.

Eleanor takes this all in, and is quiet, her head in Jasper's lap, his right hand playing with the ends of her hair. Old habits.

Her brother has never, so far as she knows, had an interest in her personal life before. He'd blustered a bit about Beck when she was younger, a protective, "if he hurts you, I'll kill him" big brother kind of thing. She hadn't minded, it made her feel looked after. Beck _had_ hurt her, eventually, but by then she was older, and in charge of charting her own messed up course. Robert had made excuses. "It's not his fault, Lenny. She's pregnant, he has to do the right thing…." He'd let her cry in his room, shared a bottle of vodka with her, and then served as Beck's best man. Stood up in church and managed to keep a straight face when he read the Psalm,… "my lover is like a gazelle." It was Liam who had stayed with her that whole weekend, sympathetic, but quiet. They'd been invited to the church too, but had declined. D-throned devoted half a column to her absence.

Eleanor had been genuinely happy with Jasper. Robert's return was a miracle that she hadn't dared hope for. That he would be just as happy for her, would love Jasper because she did, was something she'd never doubted. She's struggling with this new information. Contrary to all expectation, for the first time in her life, her beloved older brother is standing squarely in-between Eleanor and what she wants most. This is more than just looking out for her or being over-protective…Robert is genuinely opposed to her loving Jasper. And what's more, he's actively trying to interfere.

She tilts her head back and meets Jasper's eye. "My Christmas letter…. You swear you didn't see it?"

"You know I didn't!" They've been over this.

She shakes her head, "Yes, I know you didn't." She purses her lips, and sits up, pulling Jasper's hands into her lap. "Except for you and me, the only people that know about that hollowed-out book are my Gran and Robert. And my Gran was not in the Palace over Christmas."

He looks at her, surprised. She'd mentioned the letter before she left, but Jasper hadn't focused on it. He hadn't seen it, and any declarations of love seemed moot once she'd left for France.

"You think he took it?"

"He's the only one who could have taken it," her voice is quieter, as the depth of Robert's deceit is sinking in. "We were home from school getting over the flu, my parents were in Australia, and Gran showed us the book. I was probably Sara Alice's age, and Gran was keeping us occupied. I thought it was the most romantic thing I'd ever heard."

Jasper laughs softly, picturing a small, enthralled Eleanor, listing to the story of Catherine and Owen. "I told him," she continues, "I told him that I'd written that I loved you, and you'd left anyway, and he never said a word…" She sighs, and curls into Jasper's side. "He could have fixed everything…. Or almost everything…. But he just let me go on thinking…"

Jasper pulls her in to his chest, drops a kiss into her hair. There isn't much that he can say to make her feel better. He knows precisely how family betrayal feels.

"Liam tried to tell me that Robert was up to something. Before I left, he tried to tell me and I blew him off."

"Yeah, Boone has some more information on his flight to the island… he told me the night we negotiated the deal with Harper. It's shady."

Eleanor swipes at her eye, and blows her hair out of her face. "Do you think Harper really found your Dad on her own?"

Jasper blinks in surprise. "You think Robert reached out to him?"

"I think it's possible. Your Dad has stayed quiet for so long. Her paper isn't going to pay a source, but the money had to come from somewhere."

"I don't know." Jasper sighs and leans back into the tree. "It's not like my father and I really talked about it."

"Robert's hiding something. Something big. There is more to this whole mess than just trying to keep us broken up."

"Agreed." Jasper confirms.

"That's why you agreed to keep working for him…. "

"One of the reasons." He wraps his free arm around her, settling her more comfortably, and sighing when she threads her fingers into his. "Also, staying out of jail is a nice bonus – it's uncomfortable there, and Sara Alice would miss me if I left."

She rolls her eyes, and rests her head on his shoulder. She's missed this. "You are a real piece of work Jasper. You know that?"

"So I'm told." He grins.

She shifts so she can look at him better. "So what are we going to do about all this?"

"I have no idea. We are going to have to come up with something."

They sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet and the peace of just being side by side again. Eleanor breaks it first.

"Does James really have a trace on my phone?"

"Yes."

She huffs, annoyed. "He knows where I am, right now?"

"He does. He has one on my phone too. He could plot the GPS coordinates of this tree on a map and call in a helicopter extraction if he felt like it."

"Terrific. Let's hope my brother isn't flying said helicopter."

Jasper laughs. "It's his job. It's not like he doesn't trust you."

"James thinks I'm unreliable."

"James thinks you're extraordinary. He thinks I'm unreliable. And he wants to keep you safe, so he's tracking your phone. And mine. And Liam's and probably your mother's too. I think he's got a microchip implanted in Sara Alice's arm."

Eleanor giggles. "James loves you," she contradicts him. When he doesn't answer back, she frowns, but she lets it drop. She will sort them out later. "Is he tracking Robby?"

"I don't think so. It's harder to do, his security credentials are different."

"Hmmmm… oh well, it doesn't matter…. I'm going to have to text Robby and tell him I'm home."

"Are you going to tell him why?"

"I'm going to lie through my teeth and say I was homesick and I felt guilty missing the beginning of his reign." She reaches for her bag and digs out her phone. She picks it up and laughs again.

" _Jaspenor_ has a little extra help," she says.

"What?" he doesn't know what she's talking about, and he's not keen on any plan that involves texting Robert.

She shows him a text from Sebastian changing the renovation schedule on a hotel in London. Jasper is mildly surprised. He doesn't have anything against the other man really, but he hadn't expected much help from this quarter. If Robert has dragged him unwittingly into Eleanor's orbit, well, that's hardly Sebastian's fault. All the same, Jasper finds him easier to like when they are on opposite sides of the Channel.

"This is perfect," Eleanor says. "I'll tell Robert that I wanted to keep coming home a surprise. And I asked you to pick me up from the airport because we had some things to discuss and I didn't want it to be awkward if you and I are going to be running into one another at the Palace. I wanted to clear the air first."

Jasper takes her phone from her, and puts it back into her bag. "Sounds like a plan." He takes her hand again, and rethreads their fingers, pulling her tighter with his free arm. "Do you have to execute that plan right this minute."

She cocks her head, and raises one eyebrow. "No, not right this minute."


End file.
